Potions Maker, Level 3
by thesydda
Summary: Draco and Hermione become reacquainted 6 years after Hogwarts. They must work together to save a friend and bring down an evil organization. Along the way they become friends, and perhaps more.
1. Kneazle got your tongue?

Disclaimer: I own nothing; these are JK Rowling's characters. I'm just living in their world.

A/N: I originally meant this to be a one-shot, but it sort of took on a life of its own. So, to give my lovely characters, and the plot line I've chosen for them, a fair shot, I'm turning it into a multi-chapter story. Hope you enjoy!

**Chapter 1: Kneazle got your tongue?**

Hermione was just putting on her lip gloss when she heard a knock at her apartment door; she stole a glance at the clock on her night table, wondering who it could be, and gasped. Time had gotten away from her, her boyfriend was here and she wasn't ready for their date, _again_; she would never hear the end of it.

She raced from her bedroom, down the hallway, past the kitchen and living room, then past the 2nd bedroom and her home office and pulled open the door. She had been all ready to start spewing her excuses for not being ready yet when she actually caught sight of her boyfriend and the words trailed off. _God, he's pretty_, she thought. Sometimes, like now, he literally took her breath away and even though they had been dating for 13 months, there were moments she absolutely couldn't believe he was hers. Or she was his. However you looked at it, it shouldn't have been possible.

They had grown up as enemies; for the first six years they knew each other, and most of the seventh, they had been on opposite sides of pretty much everything, seemingly human antonyms. She was light; he was dark. He was pureblood; she was Muggle-born. She was Gryffindor; he was Slytherin. He was a Death Eater; she was a member of the Order of the Phoenix. Even physically they were entirely different. He has quite tall, with grey eyes and the whitest blond hair you could imagine, while she was short, with brown eyes and brown hair.

All their opposition to each other began to fade into the background when his family crossed the lines that kept them divided and fought AGAINST Voldemort in the Last Battle. It faded even more when they had both joined in the rebuilding of Hogwarts; they hadn't actually worked _together_ at any point during the rebuilding, but Draco did make a point of tracking her down one afternoon, close to the end of the project. Even though he'd already taken Harry and Ron aside, individually, and humbly apologized, she hadn't really expected he would want a turn with her, as well. She hadn't been sure until after their conversation that his prejudices actually _were _gone and not just conveniently stuffed away so the Malfoys would be found fighting on the right side in the end and avoid the consequences of losing. Namely, Azkaban.

He had asked her to walk with him and she had hesitantly agreed. While sitting by the Black Lake, in the glow of a nearly setting sun, he had haltingly apologized. He stumbled through his words, not because he didn't mean them, but because he meant them deeply. Apologizing to Harry and Ron had been easy, compared to this. He desperately wanted to find the words to convey how very much he wished he could take it all back. Not just the obvious things, like trying to kill Dumbledore, or letting Death Eaters into the school, but for the things that hurt her personally. It was a lovely apology and while neither of them expected it to lead to friendship, it did help wipe the slate clean. They were able to start over fresh; it was like her friendship with Ron and Harry after the mountain troll incident – there were just certain things you experienced with other people that almost automatically made you friends. The Last Battle was one of those things. Though the friendship didn't happen right away; it was, in fact, another six years before they really saw each other again. March 5, 2004 to be exact.

Up until March 2004, they hadn't had much contact with each other. For while Draco and Hermione had both spent their free time during the year of rebuilding finishing their 7th year via on site classes and owl correspondence and both had passed their NEWTS with flying colors, Hermione had the world at her feet and more job offers than she could have used in a hundred lifetimes, Draco had a harder time. Many people still saw him as a Death Eater, despite his change of allegiance at the end. No one was willing to hire him and the Ministry had his family on probation.

He found that life was rather unbearable in Wizarding London, so he left everything familiar to him and moved into one of the Malfoy houses in Greece. It was located in Kipseli, Greece, a city a little ways outside of Athens. He found a job in an apothecary in Athens, which corresponded well with his aptitude in Potions while at Hogwarts. He excelled at making and distributing the potions, but his favorite part was researching and developing new potions; this is what brought him back to London six years later. The Ministry had a position open in their R&D team for a Potions Maker, Level 3. It was a mid-level job, and would probably go to someone already in the department, but Draco wanted to go back to London. He missed his family and Malfoy Manor; he was hopeful that enough time had passed that London would be slightly more welcoming to his presence than they had been when he left.

He didn't really expect to get the job, but started making arrangements to move back to London, figuring if worse came to worse he could start his own R&D firm. Just when he had given up on hearing back about the job, he received an owl from the ministry. The attached letter included congratulations on receiving the job, an overview of the benefits he would receive for taking the job, a contract for him to sign stating he would be taking the job, and a personal note from Harry Potter! Harry Potter? Draco wondered why Harry would be sending him a note with his job info.

_Malfoy,_

_ Sorry, I should probably call you Draco, but it's still a little weird. We'll work on that, eh? Anyway, congrats on getting the job in our R&D department. I wanted to send you this note to let you know we'll be working pretty closely together and spending quite a bit of time working with each other._

_The Potions Maker, Level 3 spot you got is working specifically with the Auror department, developing potions to help Aurors do their job more efficiently and safely. I will be your liason within the Aurors and am hopeful I can help you make a smooth transition into the job. _

_Orientation starts Friday, March 4, at 8AM sharp. Meet me in the lobby of the Ministry and I'll give you the tour. If you have any questions, you can owl me between now and then. _

_ (Harry) Potter _

Draco had to laugh to himself that he would be working so closely with Harry Potter; this job would be interesting on a number of levels, now. He would never admit it to anyone, not even himself, but he felt a little apprehensive working with Potter (Potter was _right!_ Calling him by his first name was too strange). They were no longer enemies, but they definitely weren't friends. And while the slate had been wiped clean between himself and the three members of 'The Golden Trio', who knew what that meant, really? Slytherins didn't wipe slates clean; how could you just forget the past?

Orientation had actually been pretty fun, which Draco wasn't expecting, at all. After some initial snarkiness, which was mostly a defense mechanism, Draco had found out that Harry Potter was actually quite funny. They shared numerous laughs while Harry showed him around the Ministry; it wasn't until lunchtime that he realized Harry also loved surprises.

They were on their way to have lunch at a café down the street from the Ministry when Harry said, "There's probably something I should tell you; I don't want you to freak out."

"Potter, what kind of statement is that? You're awful at telling people things. Also, I'm not a girl, I'm not going to freak out. Just say whatever it is you're going to say," Draco responded, brushing invisible lint off his shirt and feigning nonchalance.

"Whatever you say, Malfoy. Just remember you said that. We're meeting someone for lunch."

"I know it's not the Dark Lord, you killed him, so I don't know why you think I wouldn't be able to handle it – who else is there to freak out over? Wait! Is it Umbridge?" Draco asked with a grin.

"Malfoy! You had to eat dinner plenty of times with the Dark Lord, so I don't think you'd freak out over him and surely you wouldn't freak out over itty bitty Umbridge. Weren't you on her Inquisitorial Squad?" Harry asked, smirking.

"Ugh! Don't remind me! What a bloody little plonker I was. The only upside of the Squad was that shiny badge we got to wear," Draco responded, only half joking.

"Note to self: reward Draco with shiny objects," said Harry, while pretending to write it down.

"Don't forget it! I like to be rewarded often," declared Draco.

They were both laughing as they entered the café. Despite its close proximity to the Ministry _The Purple Kazoo_ wasn't crowded. They were famous for their breakfasts; every morning it was standing room only, with lines out the door, but few people realized their lunch food was equally as good, so there was often plenty of seating to be found in the afternoon. Harry thought Draco would probably appreciate being able to eat in peace; because he was newly arrived back in the wizarding world, people seemed to have no boundaries when it came to staring at and talking about him. Knowing who was meeting them for lunch was an added reason Harry wanted a little privacy. He looked around the restaurant and found their mystery guest in a back corner sipping water and reading a book. The expression in his eyes softened and a grin graced his lips.

Draco noticed Harry's expression change and turned his head, trying to figure out what had captured the other man's attention. His gaze finally landed on the person in the back corner and he had to stare for a minute before it clicked. "I- Is that… Granger?" he asked Harry.

Harry just laughed, started walking toward the back table, and said, "Come on!"

They arrived at the back table, but Hermione was so caught up in her book that she hadn't noticed they were there, yet. "It often takes a few minutes for her to pull herself out of a book; you learn to be patient with her," Harry said. His fondness for Hermione was obvious to Draco.

It took another few seconds, but Hermione finally noticed they were there. She marked her place in the book and stood up to hug Harry, a slight blush staining her cheeks in embarrassment. "Hi, Harry! Sorry about that; I didn't see you come in."

"Don't worry about it, Sweetie; _I'm_ used to it. You always make me wait," Harry responded teasingly.

"Oh, clear off, you! I'm not _that_ bad," she said, swatting him on the arm and laughing. It was then that she remembered Draco standing next to Harry. "Hello, Draco. I forgot Harry mentioned you might be joining us. How is your training going?" Hermione asked him.

He went to reply; truly he _was_ going to say something, but all of a sudden his mind was blank, his mouth was dry and all he could do was stare at Hermione Granger. He didn't know what it was; she wasn't pretty, so it certainly wasn't that he _liked_ her, besides the fact he'd known her for 13 years, he didn't really know her – he absolutely couldn't, he _didn't_, like her. It was just really dry in this café and he was having trouble swallowing. Maybe it also had something to do with the fact that she'd said his name; that must be it. Aside from the apology six years previous, he wasn't sure they had ever used each other's first names. The surprise of it must be throwing him off; it had nothing to do with how he felt when he heard 'Draco' fall from her lips. Like maybe he wanted to hear her say it every day for the rest of his life. That would be absurd.

She let out another small laugh and said, "What? Kneazle got your tongue, Malfoy?"


	2. The Purple Kazoo

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters; they belong solely to JK Rowling.

**A/n: Apologies for the rather short chapter this time. I had hoped to make it longer, but as much as I've rewritten this chapter, the length is one thing that hasn't changed. You'll receive more details about the characters' missing six years as we go, so don't worry if you have questions at this point. I'm not 100% pleased with this chapter, but again, I've rewritten it so much and I think I've finally got all the bits and bobs I'd hoped to put in it**

**Also: thanks to everyone who has favorite my story and/or put it on alert. You all are much too kind **

**~Sydda**

Chapter 2

Draco gave a sharp shake of his head, hoping to knock loose some of the sense he knew he possessed. He called upon the poise he'd learned from his many years as a Malfoy and said, "Something like that, Granger. Thanks for your concern," with a smile to show his dry tone of voice was meant to be friendly, not cruel. He continued, "Harry's a great trainer; we've mostly just done the tour of the Ministry and talked about what I'll be doing, but we haven't made it down to where I'll actually be working, yet." He glanced up at that point and noticed she was standing there with eyes widened and mouth slightly open and questioned, "What? Is there something on my face? You look like you've seen a ghost!"

It was Hermione's turn to shake her head, trying to clear it of her bewilderment. "Uh, no? Maybe? Well, no, obviously there's no ghost in here, but sort of, just the same? Wait. I mean, who are you? Did you just say something nice about Harry?"

Draco laughed loudly, and it sounded almost a little rusty, as if from disuse. "Granger! I can be nice when I want to be. Besides, all I said was that he's a great trainer. It's not as if I said he's a stellar example of a human being and my deepest wish is be exactly like him. But if it will make you feel more comfortable, I can throw in some insults, you silly little know-it-all."

"Oddly, that does make me feel more comfortable, Ferret," she quipped. "It will probably take me a while to get used to this new, nicer Malfoy."

"Do we need to do that silly muggle thing where we pretend we've never met before and we shake hands and reintroduce ourselves to each other?" he said, only mostly joking. If that's what it would take, he would do it, though he found the whole idea of pretending to reintroduce yourself to someone you already knew completely ridiculous. But he wanted this job to work out and he wanted as smooth a transition as possible back into Wizarding London; it looked like that might be helped along by befriending Potter and Granger. Life had a weird way of throwing curveballs at you.

Hermione laughed and shook her head, "Where did _you_ learn about muggles doing that?"

"He can tell us while we all eat lunch; let's go order, I'm starving!" Harry interrupted.

Once they were all seated with their meals, Hermione reminded Draco he had a story to tell. "I had no idea you knew anything about muggles. Aren't you supposed to be the Pureblood Prince? Where on earth did you learn about that muggle idea?"

"Well, Granger, I _am_ the Pureblood Prince – they elected me in a grand ceremony just last week. They gave me a crown to wear that only other purebloods can see, but it's awfully heavy and not quite ostentatious enough for me, so I left it at home. Neither of you would be able to see it anyway," Draco replied, with a wink. "Be that as it may, while I was in Greece I was unaware I was going to be given such a tremendous honor, and I was just trying to disappear from the Wizarding world for a while. Even in Greece they knew who I was, so I tried out some more muggle forms of entertainment. I tried bowling, but hated the shoes; I tried golf, and found it quite enjoyable, but sometimes more frustrating than relaxing. I finally tried their movies and sort of became obsessed. I watched them every free chance I got. It seemed to be a common theme for the guy to be an utter prat and then make it all better by apologizing and reintroducing himself. Seems too easy, like maybe he should have to earn his way back into her good graces."

"But if you really love someone, you don't make them earn their way back into your good graces. That's what forgiveness is about," Hermione argued.

"You might be right about forgiveness. But in these movies, the people can't REALLY be in love, in most cases, they've only known each other for a handful of days, or weeks at the most. I don't think love can come that quickly; you can't love someone you don't know and you can't get to know someone in just a short amount of time," Draco countered. He was enjoying this little battle of wits with the bushy-haired Gryffindor; it had been entirely too long since he'd been able to debate with another person.

Hermione would never admit it, but she was enjoying this clash of minds with Draco, as well. Ron and Harry hardly ever argued with her, preferring to just give in, knowing she'd most likely wear them down in the end anyway. "But love is a choice," she began. "We can _choose_ who we love. That's why sometimes arranged marriages actually have a higher success rate than those people who 'marry for love'. There's none of that rush of feeling that starts the relationship to wear off after marriage."

"But none of these movie people talk about choosing love. It's all 'I've fallen in love with you' or 'I can't believe how hard I fell for you'. Choice might enter into the equation, but love isn't always a choice; sometimes love sneaks up on you. And are you saying you'd rather have an arranged marriage?" he challenged.

"Are you saying you wouldn't? Doesn't that go against everything pureblood? Haven't you been betrothed since before you were born? And I'm not denying that sometimes there are events that happen that cause you to fall in love with people and THEN you get to know them. Like life-threatening situations. But those are the exception, rather than the rule. And the movies are about the magic of the exception, but that doesn't mean you should live your life by them" argued Hermione.

"Isn't that rather prejudiced of you, Hermione? Purebloods don't just automatically get betrothed anymore. And you're a girl, aren't you supposed to love the idea of 'falling in love'; isn't it considered romantic?" Draco countered.

She faltered momentarily over his use of her first name, but rallied and said, "how am I supposed to know anything about purebloods? It's not as if any of them have invited me over for tea. Other than the Weasley family, I haven't had a chance to get close to a pureblood family. And _they _aren't exactly conventional."

Before either one could continue arguing, Harry interjected, "Oi! Stop arguing you two. There will be plenty of time for that in the future."

They both looked a little chagrined, though bright eyed from the adrenaline and excitement of arguing. Draco quickly changed the subject, "Potter's told me what he's been up to since I left London Granger, what have you been up to in the past six years?"

The trio spent the rest of lunch catching up on each other's lives. Draco had been in Greece for six years, working at an apothecary, trying out muggle forms of entertainment. While his parents had avoided Azkaban, they had remained mostly within the confines of Malfoy Manor, feeling ostracized from the rest of Wizarding society. Draco had wanted a fresh start when the rebuilding was over; he thought getting away from London would help with that. He had really enjoyed Greece, and in some ways would really miss it; he'd hoped to plan a trip back in a few months.

Harry had married Ginny Weasley after she finished at Hogwarts. He had helped with the Hogwarts rebuilding effort and then gone for Auror training with the ministry; he was now head over several Aurors and didn't have to travel as much, which both he and Ginny, and their sons, enjoyed. He was starting a project requiring close contact and collaboration with a number of different research and development team members: potions, herbology, and divination to name a few. The Dark Wizards that were left were getting better at hiding. This was good, in that they had fewer opportunities to wreak havoc, but awful, in that their hiding spots were better and better warded, which made things difficulty and even more dangerous for the aurors trying to capture them. The auror department had recently run in to a batch of nasty side effects to some previously unknown curses and Harry had the brilliant idea to collaborate with some unusual departments to try to keep his men safe.

Hermione had spent the year after the Final Battle helping to rebuild Hogwarts, finishing up her schooling, and trying to locate her parents in Australia. Malfoy was amazed to find out what Hermione had done to protect her parents – and she'd never let on during the rebuilding that there was any additional trouble going on in her life. Finding her parents had proved a difficult task, and she had finally gone in person to try to track them down. After several months of searching she had found them and restored their memories. Her parents hadn't been ready to head back to London, so Hermione had stayed with them for several more months. They had finally all moved back to London 4 years ago; Hermione had spent two years working with the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures championing House Elf rights. She had learned a lot through that endeavor, including that for the elves to be truly free, they also had to have the right to continue working in the only way they knew. At least now they knew they had other options, as well.

She spent two further years working with the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes developing spells to make reversing Obliviation easier and less risky. She knew her success with her parents was not only due to her magical skill, but also to a little bit of luck. She wanted to make sure other people in extreme situations didn't have to worry about reversing their curse. But there had to be safeguards in place so not just anyone could undo the Obliviate.

Recently, when she'd heard about Harry's idea to try to make Auror patrols safer, she'd made the decision to change tracks again and had spoken with the Minister of Magic about creating a new department to help research and develop safety measures using Ancient Runes and Arithmancy – two of her favorite subjects in school – to help figure out dark curses and how they worked. The information she figured out would then be given to the potions and spells researchers so counter-measures could be pursued.

It was just after Hermione had shared that part of her job when Harry interrupted, "I'm supposed to be the liaison between you two, currying information between you and facilitating the process."

"Oh, Harry, how wonderful! I've been wanting to work closer with you," Hermione exclaimed. Then she noticed Harry's abashed look and asked, "What? Harry, what is it?"

"Well, you see, one of our operatives has run into some trouble in Belarus and someone needs to go help infiltrate the group he was taking down and extract him safely. We were going to send Nedderwall since he's been cleared for duty again, but since you two are getting along so famously, I was thinking we could cut out the middle man for the time being and you two could just work together? Just until I get back?" Harry explained, almost pleading by the time he got to the end.

"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed at the same time that Draco growled, "Potter!"

Harry put his hands in the air, trying to placate the duo. "Come on, guys; the work you two are going to be doing is vital to our future success capturing dark wizards, but I really need to go get this guy. I'm the best man for the job and you two _can_ handle this – if nothing else, lunch proved that. You didn't rip each other's heads off; I know you'll be fine while I'm gone."

Hermione had a sneaking suspicion, but very much hoped she was wrong. "Harry," she asked, "why are you the perfect man for the job? I thought you weren't going to be going out on missions anymore. You've transferred over to training and being a liaison 'cause it's safer and you have a family now. What aren't you telling us?"

"The operative stuck in Belarus is Ron."


	3. Revaliucyi

**A/N: Happy chapter 3!**

**Just wanted to let you all know that I am leaving to go out of town in three days, for a week. I won't have any internet access while I'm gone, and I'm doubtful that I'll get another update in before I leave, but don't worry, I'm not abandoning anything! I'll be kicking it old school while I'm gone and hand writing my updates, so I should have an update for you when I get back, assuming all things go according to plan **

**Thanks for reading my story; I hope you are enjoying it!**

Chapter 3

"What the hell was that, Potter?" Draco fumed. "What a way to break the news about Weaselbee. Even I know that's not the way you tell someone that the person they love is in danger. For Merlin's sake!"

The two men had just watched Hermione Granger get up and run out of _The Purple Kazoo_. She hadn't said anything, but had been in such a hurry to get out that she had knocked her chair over and had left her bag, her book, and her sweater.

"Well," Draco said awkwardly, "Shouldn't you go after her, or something?"

"Someone should, but it won't be me," Harry stated firmly.

"Wh-a-that is-who-not," Draco sputtered.

"If I go after her, she'll just break down. She needs someone to distract her while she processes this. It has to be you."

"But I barely know Granger, Potter. She'll be furious. There's no way she'll like me butting in."

"Since when do you care? She may not like it, but it's what she needs." Harry held up his hand to keep Draco from interrupting. "I've known this girl for 1 years; she's been my best friend for more than 12 of them. I shouldn't have told her like that, but what's done is done. You guys aren't friends, but you're not exactly strangers. Just go take her mind off things. She'll be hiding out in her office; I'll be along in a bit to clear things up." He pulled a folder out of his robe pocket and handed it to Draco. "Your first case; that will help you distract her."

Draco couldn't believe his ears. He opened his mouth to tell Potter to shove off and deal with Hermione's bushy-haired self on his own, but what actually came out surprised even him. "You owe me, Potter. Big time."

Harry just hung his head in his hands; Draco just watched, but when Harry hadn't moved after several minutes, he sighed and placed the folder in his robe pocket, gathered up Hermione's forgotten belongings. He headed out of _The Purple Kazoo_ and stopped just long enough to pick something up from their bakery – he needed all the help he could get to make sure Granger didn't hex his bits off for bothering her.

Draco knocked on Hermione's office door, which was soon to be his office door as well and when he didn't get a response to his knock, he entered anyway and found Hermione with her arms on her desk, forming a pillow for her head. She had her face down on her arms, though, so he couldn't tell if she was crying or not. She looked smaller than Draco could ever remember seeing her, but he quickly shoved that thought aside, walked over to her desk, draped her bag over the back of her chair and placed her book and the slice of chocolate raspberry cake he'd bought her on the corner of her desk. After pulling the case folder out of his robe, he charmed it to make a copy of itself. Taking one of the copies for himself, he told Hermione, "Potter gave this to me after you left. It's the case we're to work on; figured we could go ahead and get started on it. He should be by in a while." He turned to walk to his desk and pretended not to notice when she wiped her eyes after lifting her head off the desk.

She started rifling through the case folder, but was too preoccupied to really read the contents. _Since Harry will be by later, I can afford to think about Ron then_, she thought, with only a little quiver of her chin. She sniffled once and reached for her teapot, tapping it with her wand to start heating the tea inside. It was then she noticed the cake on her desk.

Glancing at Malfoy, she noticed he was dutifully avoiding her gaze. "Uh… did you – is this… why," Hermione faltered. She took a deep breath and tried again, "Did you bring me this cake?"

She saw him stiffen out of the corner of her eye and a slight blush color his cheeks; he replied without moving his gaze from the papers laying on his desk. "Yes. When Mother feels…_off_… she often likes to eat cake. I thought it might help with the whole…" he trailed off, lamely, realizing he probably shouldn't bring the Ron situation up. "Consider it a peace offering for barging in on you. We have to share an office and I'd rather not have to worry my desk chair is booby-trapped when I come in every morning."

"I make no promises about your desk chair," she replied with a small laugh, "but thank you for the cake." She busied herself making her cup of tea, debating whether to continue the niceties with Malfoy and deciding as long as he was nice, she would be too. "Ferret, would you like a cup of tea?" she asked. _What_, she thought, _I said I would be NICE; I'm not a saint. _

He had agreed to a cup of tea, with nary a word that she had called him 'Ferret' again. He'd have to curb that if she kept it up, but he'd let her have it for free today. It wasn't every day you found out your boyfriend had been captured by Dark Wizards and your best friend was going after him, leaving you behind. Was the Weasel her boyfriend or her fiancé? Draco had no idea; Granger hadn't mentioned Weaselbee at all during lunch, and she wasn't wearing a ring, but – wait, why was he even thinking about this? He didn't care what sort of relationship Granger and the Weasel had.

The pair continued to work in silence; occasionally Hermione would get up from her desk to pluck a book from one of the numerous bookshelves, and then return to her seat, thumbing through the pages and reading passages here and there. Draco didn't have any books in the office, yet, but he had a habit of pacing when he was thinking especially hard. Both of them happened to be at their desks when Harry finally stopped by, just before the end of the day and both of them glanced at the door of their office when Harry knocked and opened it without waiting for a response.

When Draco saw who it was, he immediately started packing his things, assuming they wanted privacy for their conversation. Potter stopped him by saying, "Malfoy, you need to hear most of this, but can you step out for a minute? I need a private word with Hermione, first."

"Uh, sure," Draco replied, chancing a glance at Hermione to make sure she was okay with him leaving. "I'll just run to the bathroom." Walking out the door, he decided to get a coffee from the lobby as well, to give Potter and Granger a little more time to work things out.

When he returned to the office fifteen minutes later, sugary concoction from the Ministry coffee cart in hand, Harry and Hermione were hugging and it was obvious she had been crying again. He was relieved they seemed to have worked things out, but he also felt a gnawing in the pit of his stomach at the sight of their hug. He absolutely was _not_ jealous, he just shouldn't have had all that sugar on an empty stomach.

Harry and Hermione had indeed made up; he had apologized profusely for the way he had told her the news and for keeping the news from her initially. He then shared some more particulars with her. Ron had been trying to infiltrate a small, but powerful, group of wizards in Belarus. He had been on the ground there for about 10 days when his cover was blown and he had been captured. Ron hadn't been heard from since the morning of the 10th day, but a Ministry ally in the area had seen Ron get kidnapped and had alerted the Aurors immediately. That had been two days ago and Harry had only found out that morning, when the plan had been for Nedderwall to go. Harry had been picked to replace Nedderwall just before lunchtime, contingent on whether he could trust Draco and Hermione to work together without killing each other in his absence.

The Ministry had a couple of undercover agents that had been called into Belarus once Ron had started infiltrating the group, which went by the name of Revaliucyi (Belarusian for The Revolution). No one had actually seen Ron, but one of the agents had heard some members of Revaliucyi talking in a bar about what they were going to do with their prisoner while they waited for the Grand Marshal to return from his trip to Europe. The timeline for his return was a little shaky, especially because they weren't even sure where he was traveling from, but Harry and the other Aurors were sure they had at least five more days to get in and get Ron before the situation became even precarious. Harry was planning on heading out early the next morning and meeting up with both the guy who had witnessed Ron's abduction and one of the undercover agents who had been keeping an eye on things in the town. At this point in the conversation, Hermione launched herself at Harry, hugged him fiercely, and wouldn't let go. He hugged her back, and tightened his grip when he heard her tearfully whisper, "I'll go with you." For a minute he said nothing, just gripped her tightly; then all he could manage to get out was, "Oh, Hermione." He pushed her an arm's length away so we could see her, continuing to hold onto her shoulders with his hands. "You can't come with me. I need you here. RON needs you here; he'd kill me if anything happened to you, and I'd let him do it." She started to scoff, but he quickly cut her off, "Hermione, I'm serious. You have to stay here; I promise to keep you informed about what's going on. But I need to know you're safe," he finished, as he hauled her back into his arms. "Fine," she relented. "But so help me, Harry James Potter, if you come back hurt, I'll finish you off myself." This was the point at which Draco had come back. Hearing him come in, Hermione gave one last sniffle, wiped her eyes, and sat back down at her desk. Harry grabbed one of the chairs in front of her desk and pulled it so he could see both Hermione and Draco at the same time. He caught Draco up on what he'd shared with Hermione about Ron, and both of them were quite a bit surprised when, instead of snide comments about Ron, Malfoy asked some probing questions and said he'd stop by the Manor and talk to his Father about Revaliucyi. He was quick to add, "He's not a member or anything, but you might be surprised by the number of offers we get to join these bands of dark wizards. It's like they don't know we fought against _him_ in the end." When no one said anything after this declaration he glanced up and noticed Potter and Granger staring at him disbelievingly. "What?" he questioned. "I may not like Weasealbee much, or at all, really, but that doesn't mean I want him given over to dark wizards. I don't know if Father will know anything about Revaliucyi, but it can't hurt to ask." With that, he grabbed his stuff and made to leave the office. "I'll owl you, Potter, if I find out anything useful," and he was out the door without a backwards glance. Harry and Hermione sat in her office in slightly shocked silence once the door had closed behind Draco. Finally, Harry broke the silence, "Sweetheart, why don't you come have dinner with me and Gin and the boys tonight? I don't want you to be alone right now." "Oh, Harry, I would love that; I haven't seen Gin in ages!" As much as she wanted to go home, watch a movie (or three) and eat her feelings (to the tune of cherry chocolate chip ice cream) while snuggling Crookshanks, somehow spending time with Harry's family seemed like the perfect precursor to that.

**A/N: Please leave a review and let me know what you think about this story! Love it? Hate it? Think they are complete out of character? Whatever you think, I want to hear it! **

**Sydda**


	4. Laughter sounds good on you

Chapter 4

**A/N: Surprise! I wrote another chapter and wanted to post it before I take off to camp for a week. I leave in about half an hour – wish me luck Enjoy!**

**I mentioned previously that Harry has two children at this point; I looked up his timeline and am now retracting that statement. Technically, in 2004, he and Gin wouldn't have had any children, but I'm going to amend it a little bit, for the purposes of this story, and say that James Sirius Potter existed at this point in time. Sorry if that freaks any of you out – he's a MINOR plot point, so shouldn't upset things too much.**

Hermione spent a lovely evening with Harry, Ginny, and their son, James. Their house elf, Sabrina, had made a wonderful dinner, after which Hermione held James until he fell asleep. There was something beautifully soothing about holding an infant and she had felt some of her tension and worry slide away. Now she was home, in her apartment, laying on the couch in her pajamas, watching _My Fair Lady. _She had Crookshanks and a pint of ice cream to keep her company. She knew she should go to bed, there was so much research to do tomorrow, even if it WAS Saturday, but she just wanted to make sure she was tired enough not to think about Ron and Harry all night. She was terrified for them in a way that she hadn't been since the Horcrux Hunt; at least then she had been with them. There wasn't anything she could do for them this time around; oh, she knew the research was important, but it was so much easier to be out there _doing_ something.

She woke herself up screaming and found she was still on the couch. She'd had one hell of a nightmare; Bellatrix had captured Ron and Harry and was torturing them. She'd seen them being cursed again and again but was unable to help; she'd been crying and screaming in the dream, trying to get to them, and had woken herself up. Hermione took a deep breath, trying to steady herself and shake off the last dregs of the dream. She sat up and moved Crookshanks from her chest, where he had been trying to paw her awake, to her side, where he nuzzled up against her side, clearly not wanting to leave her alone right now. She glanced at the clock on her DVD player and saw it was 4 in the morning; knowing she wouldn't be going back to sleep, she decided to get up and take a long, hot bath.

Crookshanks followed her into the bathroom, keeping guard over her from his spot in the sink. She ran the water as hot as she could stand it and lit some candles, hoping their calming scent would relax her still jittery nerves. She grabbed a book from the shelf in the cabinet at the foot of her tub where she kept extra copies of several of her favorite books, charmed to keep the water off. She sank down into the water, turning the faucet off with her foot, and opened her book to a random place; she'd read all these books so many times she could start from anywhere. What she really wanted was someone to read to her – she found it quite relaxing to be read to. _I should invent a spell that has a book read itself out loud_, she thought to herself, randomly. She laughed a little to herself, but made a tiny mental note to try some spells out; there had to be a way.

After reading several chapters in _Little Women_, she didn't feel like she could sit still any longer so she got out of the tub, put on a robe, and padded into the kitchen to make breakfast for herself and Crookshanks – oatmeal for her and kibble for him. Still feeling emotionally strung out, and knowing no one would be at the Ministry to see her clothes anyway, she dressed in black yoga pants and an old t-shirt of Ron's – comfortable and comforting. She gathered up her briefcase, kissed Crookshanks on the head, and apparated to the Ministry. She bought a large coffee from the cart in the lobby and hurried up to her office. She arrived at her office and quickly lost herself in research for the case she and Malfoy had received the day before. She loved doing research, but she was also trying to block out any thoughts of Ron and Harry.

When Draco arrived a couple of hours later, he found Hermione almost buried behind stacks of books and piles of parchment. There were several balls of parchment littering the ground at her feet and her hair was frizzier than normal – she'd been running her fingers through it and pulling at it in frustration. He thought she looked delicious. _DISHEVELED_, he hurriedly corrected his thoughts; _she looks disheveled. _"Oi, Granger! You look dreadful. How long have you been here? And what crawled on top of your head and died?" he taunted. There, that should teach him to think of her as delicious.

She glanced up from what she was doing, rolled her eyes, and retorted, "Wow, I've never heard that one from you before, Malfoy; where _do_ you come up with your insults? You talk about my hair so much, maybe we should name it and then you guys can have your own relationship." She didn't know what she was expecting from him, but it wasn't laughter, though that's what she got. He laughed, loud enough that it seemed to surprise even him. She was momentarily stunned, but then joined him in his laughter. All of a sudden Malfoy let out a snort; Hermione's jaw dropped and her eyes widened. A moment later she started giggling. She was sure that Malfoy wouldn't be pleased that she was giggling at him, but she couldn't stop; she was shaking with peals of laughter. When she finally managed to calm down, she looked over at Malfoy and saw that he was grinning at her. Her face flashed with confusion before she settled her mouth into a grin of her own.

"Laughter sounds good on you, Granger," he said.

"Smiling looks good on you, Malfoy," she responded.

Both of them were slightly astonished at what they had just said; apparently, laughter loosened lips. Before things could get awkward, the door to their office opened and Harry came through. "Harry!" Hermione exclaimed, "what are you still doing here? I thought you were leaving this morning!"

"I had a last minute briefing with the Minister of Magic; I'm about to head out, but wanted to just check on you two before I left."

Without warning, Hermione burst into tears; she seemed as shocked as Harry and Malfoy that that turn of events and immediately started apologizing. Draco averted his eyes while Harry rushed over to her and pulled her into his arms. "Sweetheart, what's wrong?" he asked. "What happened? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine… I promise. Just…emotional… Didn't get much… sleep… last night," she explained between sobs.

Harry rubbed her back in soothing circles. "Honey, calm down. Just breathe," he said, trying to calm her down. "Are your nightmares back?" he asked her.

She took a deep breath in, glanced over at Draco, saw he wasn't paying attention to them, and let it out shakily before replying. "The first one in months. I'm sure it was a one off; please don't worry about me! You have to focus on your trip."

"Hermione! I always worry about you; you're my best friend," he pulled her into a tighter hug. "How bad was it, Honey?"

"One of the worst I've had. But I dealt with it… I WILL deal with it. You HAVE to focus on this trip; you have to stay safe!" She wiped her eyes and rested her forehead on Harry's shoulder.

"Okay, Hermione, okay. We'll drop it for now, but if you need anything while I'm gone…"

"I'll handle it, Harry," Hermione interrupted. "You just focus on getting yourself and Ron back here in one piece."

They stood silently for a minute, just hugging each other, before Harry finally released her and stepped back. "I'll see you soon," he said firmly. She nodded, wanting to believe him more than anything, having her two best friends in peril was definitely something she'd never get used to, no matter how many times it happened.

"Malfoy, the Ministry's Potions' Master wants to see you; I was supposed to inform you," Harry said, before ducking out the door and heading off.

"Shite!" Draco swore. "Why couldn't he have told me that sooner?" and he took off out of the office.

Harry grabbed Draco's arm before he got too far and said, "I need to talk to you."

Draco threw him an irritated glare. "You have awful timing, Potter; I have a meet…" he trailed off, recognition dawning in his eyes. "The Potions' Master didn't ask for me, did you? You made that up. Which must mean you want to talk to me. AND you don't want Granger to know about it. This should be interesting."

"Malfoy, I know you're not actually a bastard anymore, so come off it. I need a favor while I'm gone."

"Force of habit; I'm not used to being friendly with you. What favor do you need?"

"You're not going to like it, but it's unavoidable," Harry hedged.

"Just spit it out, Potter; I'll make it work."

"I need you to look after Hermione while I'm gone."

"What? What do you mean?"

"I'm going to tell you something, but you can't let on to Hermione you know." At Draco's nod (how could he say no? He would _love_ to pull one over on Granger), Harry continued, "she has nightmares. Bad nightmares. She used to get them all the time; they got worse after the war, but settled once she got her parents back. She hasn't had one in several months, but apparently had quite a bad one last night."

Nightmares were something Draco understood; he had often had them after the war – who hadn't, really? But he didn't know how he could help Granger with hers.

"I just need you to keep an eye on her. This new nightmare might be a one-off like she insists, but in case it's not, I need to know that someone here is watching out for her, so I can focus on Ron and getting him back."

"Okay," Draco responded hesitantly.

"Don't be obvious about it! She'll hate that. But you'll be seeing her for several hours most days, so keep your eyes open. Do what you have to do to make sure she's taking care of herself; you're a Slytherin, I'm sure you'll figure it out."

"Let's say I do agree with this plan; why me? Why not your wife? They're close; it'd be easier for her," he argued.

"Gin doesn't have as easy access to her; it'll be too obvious to have her checking in on Hermione. She'll do what she can, obviously, but Hermione's stubborn. And she doesn't like to ask for help, so if she needs it, you'll have to be sneaky about it. It should only be for a few days, just 'til I get back with Ron."

"I don't know how wise this idea of yours is, Potter, but I'll give it a go."

"That's all I ask. Now, I have to go; don't let Hermione know you're watching her!" With that he walked down the hall.

Just as Harry was about to turn the corner, Draco called after him, "Hey Potter!" When Harry turned around, Draco continued, "Stay safe!" It felt a little unnatural coming out of his mouth, especially aimed at Potter, but it needed to be said.

Draco sighed to himself and headed for the lobby. If he was going to be watching after Hermione, especially without her knowledge, he was going to need a pick-me-up. Maybe he'd see if he could get something for her from the cart, too.

**A/N: Sorry this chapter is a little short, but I hope you enjoyed it! Please leave me a review to come home to!**


	5. I Charmed the Coffee Cart Girl Of Course

A/N: First off, my apologies for the long wait for this chapter – I hope you think it's worth it!

I struggled with this chapter and have literally rewritten it at least a dozen times. But finally, a couple of days ago, I came at it from a different perspective and the words just seemed to come to me. I had meant to make a time leap, since I never intended for this story to be as drawn out as it has been, but Draco and Hermione had something else on their mind.

Anyway, please read and review. Let me know what you love and what you hate. Thanks for reading!

**Chapter 5**

Hermione watched Draco rush out the door after Harry before dropping her head into her hands and giving in to the urge to cry. She would give herself two minutes to completely lose it. Just two minutes; she could spare that much. Then the_Revaliucyi _better watch their asses because she was coming for them. She may have another case she was working on, but she wasn't the Queen of Research for nothing – she could research both.

It ended up being four minutes before she could pull herself together, but she wiped her eyes one final time, blew her nose, and gathered her wand and some parchment, before walking briskly out of her office and toward the Ministry library; she needed to know as much about her case and Belarus as she could. She was determined that Harry and Ron would make it home safely if it was the last thing she did, and she'd take down any obstacles in the way.

Arriving at the library, she staked a claim on a secluded table in a nook near the back that hardly anyone knew about. She shed her robes and went off in search of books she could glean more information from. Fairly quickly she found herself with her arms full of books; heading back to the table, she unloaded her books and started stacking them in piles according to topic. She decided to start on a book about Belarus – maybe with some foundational knowledge about the country, something she might not catch otherwise would stand out to her when she read about the _Revaliucyi _members. She also made a stack of books she wanted Malfoy to get started on.

She settled into her chair, pulled the first book towards her, and wished for a cup of something warm. Deciding she would use the drink as an excuse to take a break a little later, Hermione pulled some parchment and a quill from her robe's pocket and started taking notes on Belarus.

Draco had charmed the coffee cart girl into telling him Granger's favorite drink and was walking back to their office, his sugary concoction in one hand, her basically sugar free drink in his other. He entered their office spouting an insult for her only to find the office empty. Immediately he turned and around and stomped off; he may not know Granger very well, but the little he did know told him exactly where she'd be.

He arrived at the library ready to tell her off for leaving him behind, but when he actually saw her, he stopped in his tracks. She hadn't noticed him, yet, and he took the opportunity to study her unawares. Yesterday was the first time he had seen her in six years, but as he stood there, he realized it was the first time he'd ever really looked at her. He'd never bothered to really see her when they were in school together – he had been too busy mocking her, too busy _knowing _he was better than her, too busy hating her for everything she was and everything he was not.

She had her hair in a ponytail, but he could see that it was still just as curly and wild as it had been in school. She was sitting with her feet wrapped around the rungs of her chair, one hand holding her book open to the appropriate page, the other elbow rested on the table, palm providing a resting place for her chin while she read. He watched her pick her quill up and write something on a piece of parchment; instead of returning her hand to the book, she idly rolled the quill between her fingers, then dropped it to scratch an itch on her nose with the back of her hand. _She's cute when she does that_, he thought to himself, scowling when he realized what he'd just thought. Before he could get carried away, he stepped forward, cleared his throat, and set her coffee on the table to get her attention. He smirked when the noise he made startled her and she jumped.

She scowled at him until her eyes landed on the steaming cup sitting near her closest stack of books. She looked bewildered for a second before breaking into a grin and telling him, "Malfoy! You read my mind!"

It was his turn to be confused and then a little horrified. "Wha—Granger! I did not! I was a first class asshole to you in the past, I admit. And, I may still generally be a wanker, but I would NEVER read another person's mind without permission." He was practically snarling by the time he reached the end of his sentence and she sat there, eyes growing wider by the second. When she abruptly broke out laughing a moment later, he spun on his heel to storm out.

He heard her chair scrape back and her hastily stifled laughter, and he hadn't gotten more than a few steps away when he felt a small hand on his arm. He stiffened and was going to shrug her off, but stilled when he heard her start talking.

"Malfoy? Malfoy, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to laugh at you; I thought you were joking. I didn't realize you thought I mean you literally read my mind…" she said, biting her lower lip while waiting for his response.

"What else could you possibly mean?" he asked. "You SAID I read your mind!"

"Well, yes; that is what I said. But it's a Muggle phrase – I wasn't accusing you of using Legilimency on me. I simply meant that you gave me something I wanted without me having to ask you for it."

"And what would that be?" he asked stiffly.

"Umm.. the coffee? That cup on the table is for me, right?" She finally released his arm and walked back toward the table.

He touched his arm where her hand had been, noting it wasn't as warm to the touch as he'd felt like it would be; there was a vague tingling sensation, though. He walked slowly back toward the table, saying, "Uh, yes. The coffee was, is. I mean, I got the coffee for you." His cheeks were lightly pink; he wasn't used to being flustered around others, but something about her was throwing him for a loop.

"Well, thank you very much," Hermione said, taking a sip from the cup. 'Oh! This is perfect; how'd you know what to get me?"

"I charmed the coffee cart girl, of course," Draco boasted.

"Of course," she replied, with a roll of her eyes.

"Tell me about all these piles of books you have. How do you need me to help?" he asked, fingering the closest stack.

"Oh, well, I know we have that case Harry gave us to work on, but I think with both of us working, we can also afford to research stuff for Ron's… for Ron's case," Hermione said, with only a little catch in her voice.

"Right! Weaselb—I mean, Ron's case. Of course. I'm inclined to agree with you that we can do both. I might have more information for you in the next couple of days on that front. Father thinks he found someone with information."

"Oh?" Hermione asked. She looked like she didn't know whether to smile or cry at that information, so he hurriedly rushed on, "Yes. After asking around Windamere Parkinson –"

"Pansy's dad?" she interrupted.

"Yep. Windamere told my father he thought he might have some helpful information and that he'd be in touch about when they could meet to pass it along. Father's just waiting to hear back from Parkinson."

Hermione sat there quietly for a moment, staring down at her coffee cup. Finally she looked up, meeting Draco's eye, and said, "Please be sure to thank your father for me. And thank you for helping. And for using your connections. I, um, I really appreciate it."

He blinked once at her owlishly before completely ignoring her thanks and saying, "Granger. I don't want to… make you dwell on things, … but I need to say something. Uh, I may not have been close to Weasley in the past, but I will do anything in my power to get your fiancé back."

While he'd been speaking, she had gripped his hand where it lay on the table top. Once the words were out of his mouth, she gave it a squeeze, pulled her hand back, and smiled at him, saying, "Thank you, Draco. I very much appreciate that." She color in her cheeks rose as she continued, "Ron and I aren't engaged, though."

"Oh, well, I didn't know. I just assumed. When I left for Greece you guys were still going strong," he said, with an awkward shrug. "I haven't exactly kept up with the news. What happened? If you don't mind my asking. Did you finally realize he wasn't good enough for you? Did his atrocious table manners finally turn your stomach one too many times? Did he…" he trailed off as he realized Granger was crying.

He immediately got up from his seat and took the seat beside her, tentatively placing his hand on her arm. "Hermione? Granger! Granger, I'm sorry! I wasn't thinking – I was trying to make you laugh, cheer you up. I suck at that sort of thing; I haven't had a lot of practice. Please stop crying. I won't try to cheer you up again." This got a watery chuckle out of Hermione, and Draco started to breathe a sigh of relief, until he realized Granger was still crying. He searched his mind frantically for some idea of what might calm a crying girl down, but none of the women he was acquainted with had ever cried in front of him. Intellectually, he knew it wasn't uncommon for women to cry, but he'd never had to handle it himself. Finally he said the only thing that came to mind, "Uh, Granger," he started hesitantly. "What would Potter do if he were here? You know, to make you feel better?"

She said nothing for a moment and he thought maybe she hadn't heard him. He was just getting ready to ask again when she quietly said, "Well, Harry would give me a hug and tell me everything was going to be okay. Could you maybe give me a hug?" She looked like she'd like to retract the words as soon as she'd said them, but before she could try to actually take them back, Draco, somewhat awkwardly, opened his arms to her. She hesitated only briefly before launching herself onto him; he placed his arms lightly around her and patted her back in what he hoped was a comforting manner. It took quite a few minutes for her to cry herself out, in which time she left a large wet spot on his robe and he realized how small and fragile she felt in his arms. It was a little disconcerting; he had never spent much time thinking about Hermione, but he'd certainly never thought of her as fragile. In order to distract himself from how dainty she was, he started murmuring to her whatever came into his head.

"Buck up, Granger! Everything will work out; you'll see. It's all going to be okay. Do you really think The Boy Who Lived would have the audacity to come back without his sidekick in tow? They will both be fine. They have you working back here on their behalf! It's all going to be okay."

"Do you really believe that?" she asked him quietly.

He pondered her question for a moment before replying, "Yeah, Granger; I really do. Potter and Weasley and much too annoying to just go off and get themselves killed. They'll need to come back in order to keep me in line." The last part was said with a slight twinkle in his eye, as he was trying to make her laugh again. It worked, though her laugh was only half-hearted.

She sat back away from him, embarrassed about breaking down. She apologized for crying on him, took out her wand, dried his robe, and started explaining her stacks of books to him and what she had learned about Belarus so far.

He was amazed at what she had accomplished in such a short time. He went back to his side of the table and pulled out his on quill and parchment. They sat there for the next two hours, each lost in their on research world, occasionally sharing a surprising piece of new information about one of their cases. He caught her almost falling asleep several times, and normally would have picked on her for it. He used to live to kick her while she was down, but he found himself only wanting to make things better and easier for her today; he didn't take the time to question that response, just went with it.

Just before three thirty an owl flew over to their table and dropped a letter in Draco's lap. He flipped it over, noticing the Malfoy seal on it and knew it was from his father. He quickly opened it and read it, getting a thoughtful look on his face once he'd glanced at the contents. He looked over at Hermione and noticed she was all but asleep, head laying on her arms on top of the book she was currently searching through.

"Granger!" he said in a loud whisper, not wanting to startle her too badly.

She stirred, lifted her head off her arms, rubbed her eyes and said, "Sorry, didn't mean to nod off there. What's that?" she asked, noticing the letter he was holding.

Instead of answering, he asked, "What are you doing tonight?"

She gave him a questioning look, completely bewildered with him in that moment; he NEVER said what she thought he'd say. "Um, I was just going to do more research. Why?"

"This is a letter from my father. He's meeting Windamere for dinner tonight. I thought you and I could have dinner at the same restaurant. We can't sit with them, obviously, but we can at least watch the meeting from a distance and be on hand to hear my father's report directly afterward."

She was so surprised, she was momentarily tongue-tied. But when she didn't immediately respond, he started backpedaling. "I mean, if you'd rather not go to dinner, you don't have to come. I can go alone. Or find someone else to go with me. I just, I thought you might like to be there and see it all firsthand. But I can just give you a report, if you'd rather."

He didn't know why he was rambling so much; he was never this conciliatory. But it just seemed to gush out of him. She had mercy on him and broke in, "Oh, no! I think dinner is a wonderful idea. I do want to be on hand to get a report on what he knows as quickly as possible. I just, I guess, well, frankly, I wasn't expecting it and you took me by surprise."

"Oh," he said, "right. Look, why don't we take a break for a little while? You've been trying not to fall asleep all day. Go home, take a kip, and I'll pick you up at 7 for dinner; how does that sound?"

"It sounds perfectly sorted, thank you. I think a kip might be just want the doctor ordered, actually. But do you think you could help me take these books to my apartment? I can do some more research before dinner?" she asked, hopefully.

He thought about trying to talk her out of it, but realized pretty quickly there would be no point in it. So he agreed, albeit reluctantly. They gathered all the books and split them into two piles; he took the larger one (being a gentleman) and escorted her to the floo network. She tugged him into the fireplace with her and they stepped out a moment later into her flat.

She placed her stack of books quickly on the coffee table and tried to grab his, as well. He gave her the top three books, but kept the rest, insisting he would do some more research before coming back to pick her up. She scrawled her address on a piece of parchment and handed it to him so he'd know how to get back to her place later. He promptly floo'd to his own place after reminding her he'd see her at 7PM.

She took her shoes off, grabbed a blanket from the back of her couch, and curled up with Crookshanks on the couch, to take her much desired nap.


	6. Don't Burn My Flat Down

Chapter 6

**A/N: Enjoy!**

Hermione snuggled deeper into her couch; she was having the greatest dream. She was walking through key moments in her friendship with Ron and Harry: defeating the troll, going back in time to save Buckbeak, meals in the Great Hall, frantically trying to save Harry during the Triwizard Tournament, hanging out in the Common Room, the Yule Ball, the Slug Club, Ron kissing Lavender and the subsequent birds Hermione had sent at his head in retaliation, Dumbledore's Army, endless camping with Ron and Harry and then just Harry, the Basilisk kiss with Ron. There were more recent memories, too. The celebration dinners for her NEWT results and then, later, Harry and Ron's auror graduation. Harry and Ginny's wedding, a handful of dinner dates with Ron, their breakup (mostly mutual), waiting at the hospital when Harry and Ginny had baby James.

Then the dream shifted to a scene she hadn't encountered in real life. She, Harry, Ron, and Ginny were sitting by what looked to be the Black Lake, on Hogwarts grounds, having a picnic. Looking around a little more, she noticed there seemed to be a lot of empty plates, more than would be necessary for just the four of them. She heard Ron mutter something about Lavender having to go the bathroom, AGAIN. She was confused until she heard Ginny's response. "Oi! Ron! Your wife is pregnant, you idiot. You try carrying a 5 pound weight on your bladder and see how often you have to go!"

"I know, Gin, I KNOW! But bloody hell, the game is going to start in a few minutes and I don't want to miss any of it!" Ron responded with an aggravated tone.

"You can go on, Ronald," dream Hermione broke in. "I don't mind waiting for Lavender. Can you just make sure when you grab your kids from wherever they are running around, that you grab my Gem and Pyxie, too?"

"Of course, Hermione! Are you sure you don't mind?" Hermione was impressed he bothered to ask; she could tell he was itching to head off.

"I have to wait for my husband anyway," she said the last part with a role of her eyes and a good natured smile. The others chuckled and Harry said, "Seems like you're always waiting on him, Hermione."

She made herself more comfortable against a tree, pulled out her book, and said, "Well, good thing he's worth the wait, then, isn't it?" with a slightly dreamy smile and a twinkle in her eye. Ginny reassured her that they would make sure her kids tagged along when they picked up their children and found seats in the Quidditch Pitch. "We'll be sitting in the Gryffindor stands; you're joining us, right?" she asked.

"Of course," Hermione replied a little absentmindedly, as she turned back to her book. Suddenly she sat up a little straighter and called after the retreating group, "If you see James before the game, tell him and Scorpy good luck!" Ron's laugh rolled back over her and she heard him say, "'Mione, they're on opposing teams! They can't both do well! But we'll say hi to them for you."

Just as she was getting lost in her book, a shadow fell over the pages and she heard a voice say something she couldn't quite make out. As she turned her face, shading her eyes to block the sun, she found herself looking into the arctic grey eyes of Draco Malfoy. _Draco Malfoy was her husband? _She was so startled, she scrunched her eyes closed, counting to five before peeking one of them open. She almost closed it again, when she noticed that he was in her living room, not on Hogwarts' grounds. Hermione started to question what he was doing there when she remembered their work dinner and noticed he was holding something out to her. She sat up and reached for it without thinking, and realized it was a handkerchief. An honest to God handkerchief. Of _course_ he had one; how could he not? But why was he giving it to her?

He must have seen the question on her face because the next words out of his mouth were, "For your face. You're crying."

She reached up quickly and realized he was right. She didn't say anything, but wiped her eyes with his handkerchief, her cheeks flushing red. _Seriously, how many times am I going to have to cry in front of him_, she wondered.

He found himself with an inexplicable urge to wipe the tears away for her, but resisted, and instead said, "I didn't even realize a person could cry in their sleep, Granger." Remembering his promise to Potter, he asked, "Did you have a nightmare or something," he asked, trying for nonchalance.

It must have worked, because she didn't react, other than to mumble a response that sounded like 'or something' and scoot farther away from him.

She just wanted to savor the sight of her friends, safe and sound and several years in the future, but she'd be damned if she spent any more time looking weak in front of Malfoy. She took a deep, bracing breath and swung her feet to the floor. As she stood up, she noticed the clock on her wall: 6:45pm. _Shite!_ They were supposed to be at the restaurant at 7!

"Bollocks! I didn't mean to sleep that long. I had so much more research I was going to do! And I was going to be ready when you got here. Oh, Godric!"

"Granger," he interrupted. "If you don't stop talking we'll be even later!" He swallowed a laugh before it could make its way out; she was cute when she was flustered.

She shot him a scowl before saying, "Ten minutes. Try not to get in trouble while I'm gone. If you need to occupy yourself, there's tea in the kitchen. Just don't burn my flat down."

"Ha, bloody ha, Granger. You're a riot."

Hermione rushed around her bedroom, trying to make getting ready as fast as possible. She had picked a tan and white striped dress that was covered in sequins. She threw on a pair of emerald high heels - which may or may not have been a concession to Malfoy - and then attacked her hair with a spell to tame it into a French braid that ended up over her left shoulder. After using makeup to accentuate her eyes, she added pale pink lip gloss, and pulled her brown leather jacket out of the closet. Eyeing her clock and noting she still had two minutes, she charmed her nail polish to bronze before grabbing her purse and heading to the kitchen.

"Malfoy, you never mentioned where we are going to dinner. I know you are wearing muggle clothes, but I didn't pay attention to what exactly you were wearing; is this dress okay for the restaurant?" she asked him, coming around the corner into the kitchen, while also double checking her purse had everything she might need. She raised her head to find him staring at her.

She ran her hand over her hair reflexively, forgetting she had put it up, asking, "What is it?"

He shook his head. "Oh, uh, nothing. I just… you look nice."

She gave him a confused blink and briefly furrowed her brow. She felt out of balance when he looked at her that way. "Thanks, you clean up well, too, Ferret." _There,_ she thought,_ that ought to get my balance back. _And it was true; he did look nice in his black trousers, grey pinstriped white dress shirt, emerald tie (she _knew_ she had chosen emerald for a reason), and black vest. In fact, he looked more than nice, he looked…. But he interrupted her train of thought before she could come up with an appropriate adjective.

"Alright, Miss Know-it-all, if that's how you want to play. Just for that, I'm not telling you where we're going. You'll just have to Side Along with me."

She nearly stamped her foot. Something about going Side Along made apparition even worse; he had to know that! "Whatever; let's just get this over with." She walked over to him and shoved her arm through his.

They arrived in an alley she didn't recognize. She went to drop his arm and walk out of the alleyway when he brought his left hand up and placed it on top of her hand, where it was resting on his right arm. She paused and he said, "Father and Mr. Parkinson won't be at the restaurant for another half hour and only Father knows I'll be there, as well." She raised her eyebrows, as if to say and? So he continued, "Father doesn't know I'll be bringing you."

Her face fell a little bit, and then it was almost as if he could see her draw upon her Gryffindor bravery. She stood even taller, pushed her shoulders back slightly, tilted her head up so even though he still had several inches on her, she seemed to be looking down her nose at him. "And he'll be angry that you're traipsing around with a Mudblood; is that it?"

It was his turn to stand a little straighter. He knew she had every right to question him and his family in regards to that, but honestly, it had been almost six years. Was he ever going to earn the right to be heard as something other than a washed up Death Eater? He swallowed down what felt like hurt, more than simple frustration, and told her in as calm a voice as he could muster, "Listen carefully, Granger, for I'm only going to say this once. Neither my Father, nor I believe in that blood garbage anymore. We haven't for over six years, but nobody seems to remember that. I thought, at least with you, that a second chance would be a given. I can see I was wrong, though; even here, it'll be an uphill battle to prove myself."

She started to interject; with some sort of excuse he was sure. He didn't want to hear it, so he continued on, "I was just trying to prepare you that my Father might assume we were on a date. I haven't told him we're working together, yet. And he takes great delight in embarrassing me in front of dates, so just ignore whatever stories he's bound to tell after giving us a rundown of Mr. Parkinson's information.

She didn't respond right away, but then, he didn't seem to expect a response – he was already heading to the mouth of the alley. It was her turn to grab his hand and stay his movement.

She knew if she apologized for jumping to conclusions, he would assume she was just saying it to be nice, if he even let her get all the words out. She thought maybe she'd sit on the apology for a while and show him that she'd really thought about what he had said. "Don't worry too much about your Father. All dads live to embarrass their children." She smiled at him before continuing, "Now, lead the way; I'm starving!"

"I'm going to remember you said that, if I ever meet your father," he threatened playfully, before leading the way out of the alley and two streets over to a restaurant called _Amattissimo_.

She wanted to comment on how they were in Muggle London, at a Muggle establishment (a _really nice_ Muggle establishment;a Muggle establishment she'd wanted to come to, been saving money to come to, in fact), but thought the whole topic of Muggles might be a tad touchy after his outburst in the alley.

She settled for saying, "Oh, _Amattissimo_! I've wanted to come here." And then the reality of eating there began to sink in, or, more accurately, the reality of _paying_ to eat there. It's not that she didn't make enough money, it's just that she'd already spent more than she should have this month on shoes. And books. Mostly books. But anyway you cut it, she had just enough money to make it until payday if she pinched her pennies. And certainly not enough to eat at _Amattissimo_ and still have running water and electricity in her apartment for the next week. Okay, 10 days, but who was counting? Oh, that's right, she was. _Maybe Ginny would let her crash on their couch for a few days. Or she could stay in her office at the Ministry?_ Neither of those were truly viable options; there was nothing for it but to admit to Malfoy she couldn't come to dinner with him. Before she lost her never, she blurted out, "Maybe I shouldn't come to dinner with you. I'll just go back to my flat and wait for you. Your Father!", _oh my gosh, this was a stroke of genius!_ "Your Father will probably be more forthcoming with just you. You can just stop by after dinner and let me know all about it."

He looked at her, trying to gauge what was actually going on. He had noticed her hesitate upon seeing the restaurant. Either she was truly changing her mind and didn't want to have dinner with him, and see his Father, or something about the restaurant, which she said she wanted to go to, had changed her mind for her. He could feel the gears turning in his mind as it raced to connect the dots. And then, like a key in a lock, the tumblers fell into place. It was money; it had to be an issue of money.

He figured if he made fun of her, she'd walk out on him and while he could collect the information without her, he didn't relish eating dinner alone. He may not like her, didn't truly know her well enough to like her, but she had a brilliant mind, even he could admit that. They'd have to use all of their considerable combined brain power to bring Potty and the Weasel _Potter and Weasley_ home safe and bring 'The Revolution' to justice. But, one step at a time, he had to get the witch to agree to stay and have dinner with him.

"Look, Granger, if you make me go in there and have dinner by myself, everyone will be staring at the devilishly good looking young man eating by himself and I'll either be overrun with young ladies and won't be able to pay attention to the meeting and might even end up getting pummeled by an irate boyfriend, or I'll draw so much attention to myself that Parkinson won't want to tell Father anything because he'll see me and assume there are other people paying attention to what he might have to say."

He held his arm out to her and continued, "Now, be a good girl, take my arm, and let me treat you to dinner while we wait to meet up with Father."

She didn't know whether to roll her eyes or laugh at him and ended up doing both before placing her hand in the crook of his arm, "Well, we can't have you blowing your cover, can we?"

"Don't forget the flock of dames who wouldn't be able to keep their hands off me!"

"As if you wouldn't absolutely love that, Malfoy!" As he held the door open for her, she threw over her shoulder, "And just so you know, it's just dinner; I'm not sleeping with you!" She added a wink in for good measure, though she was only half kidding.

He burst out laughing, "Oh, Granger, you really are a riot! Your sense of humor is improving just by being in proximity to me."

**A/N: hope you enjoyed the chapter. **_**Amattissimo**_** is Italian for Well Beloved (at least according to the internet). Please review and let me know if you love or hate what you're reading. Too much detail? Not enough? Moving too slow? Confused about anything?**

**Also, I'm thinking about changing the title for this story – if you have any suggestions, let me know! Full credit to anyone whose idea I pick. **

**Thank you for reading!**


	7. I was born a lion

**A/N: Sorry! I meant to have this chapter up yesterday, but I left the flash drive that holds all my writing at work. I hope you enjoy this chapter! Please read and review. **Disclaimer: I own nothing; these characters are not mine.

Hermione looked around her at the beautiful restaurant. The hostess had led them to a round, two person booth, from which they had an excellent view of the table Mr. Malfoy was sitting at. Parkinson hadn't joined him, yet, but since they could see the other table so well that meant the other table would be able to see, and possibly recognize, them. Hermione was glad that she had taken precautions against that when they walked through the restaurant door.

Before they crossed the lobby and caught the eye of the hostess, Hermione had grabbed Draco's hand and pulled him behind one of the large columns that were evenly spaced around the edges of the room.

Draco was startled when he felt Hermione tug him behind the pillar. "Granger, I thought you said you _weren't _going to sleep with me." He knew that wasn't what she wanted, but he couldn't pass up the opportunity to rile her up!

She stood there gaping at him momentarily before her cheeks heated in a bright red blush. "I – you – oooo, Malfoy!" she stammered, nearly stamping her foot. "If I was going to sleep with you, I certainly wouldn't do it _here_. And definitely not before we see your Father. Besides, there's not nearly enough room back here," she added, saucily. _Two can play at this game_, she thought to herself.

Draco raised his eyebrows at her when she pulled out her wand. Before he could say anything, she was talking, "Your hair. We have to change your hair."

He shrunk away from her and moved to draw his own wand. "Granger, put that wand away. You aren't touching my hair. You'd probably give me a head full of your own bushy curls."

"But we have to change your hair! You've met Mr. Parkinson before, yeah?"

"Of course I have, Granger. Pansy used to be one of my good friends. What does that have to do with anything?" And then slowly it dawned on him. "If we can see him, it's quite likely he'll also be able to see us."

"And your hair is quite distinctive," Hermione added.

"Shit! I should have thought of that sooner," Malfoy whined.

"Here, it'll just take a second," Hermione said, quickly speaking an incantation before he could say anything else. "There! It's perfect," she said happily.

He reached his hands up quickly to check that his hair was all still there. It felt the same. "What color is it now?" he queried.

"Black. It's quite fetching, if I do say so, myself."

"Black? Oh, Merlin! This better not be permanent, Granger! Malfoys were never meant to have black hair."

"That's sort of the point, Malfoy. No one would ever expect you are you with that hair."

"Fine. But I need to change your hair, too!" he exclaimed, reaching for his wand.

"Absolutely not!" she hissed at him. "Mr. Parkinson doesn't know who I am." She realized that most people wouldn't think there was much to be vain about in regards to her hair. But she _was_ quite partial to it! There was absolutely _no_ way she would let Malfoy – the ferret! – come near her hair with his magic. The last time he had used magic against her, her teeth had grown to enormous proportions. Granted, that _did_ end up with her teeth better than they were originally; however, she was still opposed to letting him mess with her hair. She didn't trust him! Why should she?

"You're a decorated war heroine. I'm not sure there's a person around who doesn't know who you are," he admitted grudgingly.

"Even war heroines need to eat dinner. I'll be fine. We'll be fine."

He scowled at her. "Fine, I won't change your hair now, but don't think I won't do it later. Let's go get our table, before we run into Parkinson waiting to be seated." He stormed off without waiting to see if Hermione was following.

They had been led to their table by an attractive redhead named Tanya, who had hung on Draco's every word, though there were few of them. Her over the top flirting seemed to have put Malfoy in a better mood, though, so Hermione tried not to be so put out by the other young woman's behavior.

"If only she was our waitress, as well," Draco mused, once Tanya had walked away.

"Yes, what an utter shame," Hermione said, sarcasm dripping from her voice.

"Sheath your claws, Granger, there's no need to get jealous," he said calmly.

"Jealous? Me? You wish, Malfoy. I'm simply not impressed with the way she fawned all over you, nor with the way she apparently doesn't know how to keep her hands to herself. It's completely unprofessional!"

"It's a good thing the Hat didn't place you in Slytherin, Granger; green is not a good color on you," he said with a smirk, before opening his menu and perusing his choices.

"That's not the only reason it's a good thing I wasn't placed in Slytherin," she grumbled, before also turning to her menu.

Once they had ordered, Granger had time to look around the restaurant and appreciate how beautiful it was. As she was staring at a fountain set into one of the nearby walls, trying to decide what image the water was spilling out of, Draco interrupted her with a whispered, "He's here!"

She tried not to spin her head around too quickly in her haste to set her eyes on the messenger she hoped bore helpful information. The man she saw was exceptionally average, but she couldn't be sure how much of that might be a magical disguise, having never seen him before. As he appeared in the restaurant, he had short, thinning hair that was the color of caramel. He was wearing a grey button down shirt and a plum colored tie. She had to pause momentarily to figure out why that seemed so odd to her, and then it hit her. While the people she closely associated with occasionally wore muggle clothing, she didn't usually see older wizards doing so, and certainly never purebloods. She was so excited by her discovery, she couldn't keep herself from blurting, "He's wearing muggle clothes" excitedly, to Malfoy.

He looked confused for a second before smirking. "Of course he is wearing muggle clothes, Granger. We're in a muggle restaurant, or did you forget?"

"Well… I may have _momentarily_ forgotten where we were," she admitted. "Of course it makes sense he's wearing muggle clothes here, but…. Oh. My. God. Malfoy! Does this mean what I think it means? Please, please, _please_ tell me it means your father is wearing muggle clothes!" she exclaimed giddily. She wiggled in her seat and clapped her hands together a few times with the simple joy she felt even just imagining Lucius Malfoy in muggle clothing.

Draco watched her display with amusement, though he wouldn't let it show on his face. No use letting her know that the idea of his father in muggle clothing amused him to no end, as well. "Of course Father is wearing muggle clothing, Granger. He and Windamere went to a lot of trouble to meet here, in a muggle establishment, to avoid detection by people who might recognize them. They certainly aren't going to draw attention to themselves by wearing robes."

Hermione deflated a little at his superior tone, but then she imagined Lucius in muggle clothing again and a grin almost split her face in half. Draco startled her by bringing the subject up again, via a question, "Do you think I look funny in muggle clothing?"

She had known that Draco was wearing muggle clothes, but she hadn't really realized it. He looked anything but funny in what he was wearing, but she'd rather die than let him know just how good he looked in his dress shirt and vest. She swallowed and blinked before answering, "Funny? No, you don't look funny. You, um, youlookreallyniceactually," she said in a rushed exhale of words. She was immediately embarrassed, but refused to give in to that embarrassment. She raised her chin, straightened her spine, and met his eye. He looked perplexed, as if not sure whether to take her seriously, or not. She shifted a little in her seat, reached for her water glass, and took a drink, before saying, "Well, say something! Godric! It's like you've never heard anyone say anything nice about you."

"Obviously, that's _not_ the case, Granger. People, especially women, say nice things about me all the time. It's _you_ that doesn't say nice things about me."

She blushed. "Yes, well. Don't get used to it, or anything." She flashed him a quick grin. "You've just been quite kind to me, so I thought I'd return the favor."

He found her blush quite endearing; it was his turn to do so when she brought up the handful of nice things he'd managed to do for her in the past two days. "It's no big deal, Granger; it's been a lot to handle in the past couple days. Don't you get used to it, either. I have a reputation to uphold."

"Godric forbid! What would people think if they found out you were kind to damsels in distress?" she teased him.

"First of all, Granger, if you're going to swear by a Founder, swear by Salazar! And while you might have been in distress, you're certainly no damsel; you're much too independent for that."

She stuck her tongue out at him and told him, "I'll swear by whoever I want, thank you very much!" She didn't know what to make of the second part of his statement, so she left it alone, making a mental note to think about it later.

Their order came quickly after that and then they were lost in the joy of eating extremely good food. They ended up chatting about movies they had both seen; they had surprisingly similar taste, though he had mostly only seen movies from the past six years. She tried to share with him the joy of movies from the 80s and from the "golden era" of Hollywood. She was telling him about the movie _Sixteen Candles_ when she saw him stiffen slightly. Looking up, she saw Mr. Malfoy weaving among tables, making his way toward them.

Before she could prepare herself, Draco was scooting up against her to make room for his Father on the other side. It was unnecessary, though, because Lucius had no intention of sitting down. "Draco, I'll meet the two of you at the Manor in fifteen minutes." He turned to walk away when Draco stopped him and said, "Father, I think we'll be more comfortable at my flat. We'll see you there in fifteen minutes." His father nodded curtly.

Draco had ended up pressed against Hermione so closely that he felt her freeze up at the mention of the Manor. Realizing immediately the issue she'd have with going back there, he'd suggested his place, instead. If they were going to bring Potter and Weasley back, he needed her focusing on what his Father had to report, rather than on flashbacks to her torture.

Once his father made it out of the dining area, he glanced over at Hermione to see that she seemed to have loosened up again now that the prospect of the Manor wasn't looming over her. He signaled to the waiter to bring their check, and after taking care of it, grabbed her hand, pulling her out of the booth. "Ready, Granger?" When she only nodded weakly, he prodded, "You're not scared of the big, bad wolf, are you?"

She dropped his hand and slugged him in the arm before walking out of the restaurant ahead of him. "Me? Scared? As if. I'm not a Gryffindor for nothing; I was _born_ a lion. If anyone has someone to fear, it's your father."


	8. You own the whole floor?

**A/N: Thanks to roni2010 and skari for your lovely reviews on my last chapter. I hope this new chapter meets your expectations **

**My apologies for the delay in posting this. My life went haywire at work and I haven't had time/energy to be creative. However, I think I've figured out how best to fit writing in, so I'm hopeful my next updates won't take as long. Caution: I did join a fest – my first one! – so I will need to write that piece. I'm trying to keep my profile updated, so if you ever have questions, feel free to check there for my latest info.!**

**I'm pretty happy with this chapter; the ending feels a little rushed to me, but I hope you enjoy reading it. Let me know what you think!**

Draco and Hermione arrived at Draco's flat a few minutes before they were scheduled to meet Lucius. Draco was unsure whether his father would choose to go directly to his flat, or if he'd stop by the Manor, first, so he'd apparated them into an alley close to his building; he wanted to keep his father and Hermione apart a big longer. He ushered her into his building and straight into the elevator, where she watched him press the button marked 19. When the doors opened, she found herself in a smallish foyer –area, with one, and only one door standing directly opposite the elevator doors, about ten feet away.

"So… you own the whole floor?" she questioned him.

He turned to her with a slight tilt of his head. "Oh, uh, yeah. The top two floors are mine, but there's not elevator access upstairs."

He said it so nonchalantly, as if it wasn't highly unusual to own the top two floors of a building. _Probably because in his world it _wasn't_ unusual_, she thought to herself.

He unlocked his front door using his wand and swept his hand in front of him, indicating she should go first. She stepped forward and ended up brushing against him when she passed. She was surprised by how much warmth radiated off of him. She didn't have time to ponder the implications, however, because she was arrested by the view before her. She had moved to the side to allow Draco to move through his front door, as well, and her line of sight had moved to the living room windows. There were floor to ceiling windows in that room; they looked out over the lights of the city. It was breath-taking and Hermione couldn't look away.

"Father isn't here, yet; the wards would have alerted me when I got off the elevator. Make yourself comfortable in the living room. Would you like some tea?" He was hoping tea would help alleviate any tension brought on by his father being in the same room as a muggle-born.

He entered the living room after making tea, to find Granger practically pressing her face against one of the windows. It was more than obvious she loved the view. He couldn't really blame her – the windows spanned the entire height of the two floors he owned and overlooked the Thames River, including the London Eye. He was about to say something to her, perhaps embarrassing her for her childish display of enthusiasm, when he heard a knock at his front door. He left Granger looking out the windows, and went to let his father in.

Opening the door, he ushered his father in, but stopped him before he could walk toward the living room. "Father, wait. I should warn you that Granger's in the living room. She's here to hear about what Parkinson told you tonight."

His father didn't say anything for a minute before inclining his head to acknowledge what Draco had said. He seemed to have a question he wanted to ask, but when he didn't say anything, Draco made to walk past to him, back into the living room. As he was passing, Lucius reached out to stop him, and murmured, "What's the story with Miss Granger?"

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, Draco. Don't play dumb with me; it's not becoming. You were at dinner with this girl, she's now in your apartment; what would you like me to think?"

Draco just stared at his father with a mixture of horror and confusion. "Father, keep your voice down!" He was terrified Granger would hear what his father was insinuating, which would be absolutely mortifying. "I've just gotten back in town from six years away; I haven't had time to start dating anyone. She's my co-worker and we share an office. One of her best friends has been taken hostage by a potential anti-Muggleborn group; I know you get asked to join these groups whenever a new one starts up."

"Yeah, well I never join them, do I?" Lucius snarled.

"I never said you did, Father. I know you don't ask for those invitations. But if we can use the information to save someone's life, we should. Even if he is a Weasley."

They both shuddered at the mention of the Weasleys. Draco turned to lead the way into the living room, and said a little louder, so Hermione would hear as well, "Thanks for agreeing to help us with this situation, Father. Any information you can give us might come in handy."

Walking into the room, Draco noticed that Hermione had moved from the window, to the table where he had placed her tea earlier. Just as he was about to figure out what sort of awkward introduction to give - I mean seriously, Father, here's the girl you allowed to be tortured on the floor at your house by your crazy sister-in-law? He really didn't think that would go over well – Hermione started speaking. "Thank you, Mr. Malfoy. I'm sure whatever information you have to share will be helpful in getting Ronald back safely." It was obvious to both men in the room that there was more she wanted to say, but she managed to bite her tongue and stop with those simple words.

"I am not primarily, or even remotely, doing this for you, or your friends, Miss Granger. My son has asked for my help, and I find myself able to give it to him. End of story," Lucius responded.

Draco thought he saw a brief flash of hurt fill Hermione's eyes, but when he blinked and looked again, it was gone. She had straightened her spine and was saying coolly, "Well, whatever your reasons, you have my gratitude."

Before his father could respond, and the meeting could end up a sparring match, Draco hurriedly asked his father if he would like any tea.

"No tea, thanks, but I wouldn't say no to firewhiskey, if you have any."

"Of course."

While Draco was getting his father's desired beverage, his father and Hermione settled themselves on plush chairs that were ranged around a fireplace. Hermione had been so taken with the view from Malfoy's windows that she hadn't looked around the rest of his large living room; she took the opportunity now.

It was a gorgeous room. On the wall farthest from the door, adjacent to the huge wall of windows, was the fireplace she was currently sitting in front of. She was in one of the three chairs arranged equidistant from the fireplace, in a way that invited conversation and intimacy. The chairs were identical, dark brown leather, and were deep enough that when she sat all the way back, her feet no longer touched the floor. She noticed Mr. Malfoy didn't seem to have the same issue, and chose to scoot forward, so her feet were no longer dangling.

She continued her inspection of the room and noticed that opposite the fireplace, on the other side of the room, a loveseat sat facing the enormous windows. There was also another chair identical to the one she sat in placed diagonally next to the loveseat; it looked out at both the wall of windows and any occupants of the loveseat. The remaining wall, and she didn't know how she had missed this earlier, was given over to massive bookshelves. She found herself a little torn between staying where she was, and immediately going over to give the shelves a good going over. She was intrigued with what Draco Malfoy might read for pleasure. She was just standing up out of her chair when Draco came back with the drink for his father.

Once he had placed Lucius' drink on the side table to the left of his chair, he asked, "So, Father, how did dinner with Mr. Parkinson go?"

"Dinner was excellent, as always at _Amattissimo_, but the conversation left a little something to be desired." Hermione's face fell when she heard Mr. Malfoy's words, but before she could say anything he continued, "I managed to find out a couple of things from Old Windbag, though."

Hermione found herself shocked at the nickname Lucius had for Mr. Parkinson; she wondered what Windamere called Lucius behind his back.

"First of all, here is the letter he received, asking him to become a member." Draco took the offered letter from his father's hand and skimmed it before stretching between his chair and hers and passing on the letter. It read:

_Mr. Parkinson,_

_ I have started a new project I am sure you would enjoy being a part of. It is time for those like us to rise above and take our rightful place. If you are interested in taking back your Merlin-given place in wizarding society, be at _Joie Pure Café _Tuesday, 8 March at exactly 10AM. Make sure you are __wearing__ a red pocket square. A liason will meet you there. _

_Vivant__illis de__purissimo__sanguine!_

_Grand Marshal_

In the right-hand bottom corner, there was a seal. It contained a large, upper-case R. The diagonal leg of the R had a small lower-case m running through it; the lower-case m was encircled and the leg of the R ran through the circle, as if crossing out the m.

Hermione ran her finger over the seal, tracing the outline of the letters. Lucius, seeing she was done reading the letter, continued with his story. "Parkinson is going to go to the café on Tuesday and see what else he can find out. We've set up another meeting for next week at the same time – though depending on what he finds out on Tuesday, we might meet sooner."

Hermione was almost too distracted to listen to the rest of Lucius' spiel. She was trying to connect the dots on what the seal could mean. The R probably stood for Revaliucyi, but what about the lower case m? And was it a circle or an o? She realized he was still talking and willed her brain to pay attention.

"He mentioned that the owl that dropped it off had been charmed to look like one of the ministry owls. He realized it wasn't from the letter's content, obviously, but also because it shed a feather; when the charm wore off, the feather changed color." He reached into his pocket and withdrew the feather, handing it to Draco. "I thought you might be able to figure out what sort of owl it is. Though, I'm not certain how that information would be helpful."

Lucius rose to his feet and said, "I wish I had more to give you tonight, Son, but I'll contact you after I hear from Parkinson." He paused momentarily before asking, "Have you gotten your floo hooked up, yet?"

Draco nodded, but instead of indicating the fireplace in the living room, indicated for his father to follow him and headed towards another room. When he walked back into the room, he found Hermione had slipped her shoes off, had her legs folded underneath her on her chair, and her head lolling to one side, eyes closed. She looked as knackered as he felt, even with her nap earlier and he wondered briefly if she was asleep, but figured he hadn't been gone long enough for that to be the case. "Hey, Granger," he spoke only slightly louder than a whisper.

"Yes, Malfoy?" she questioned, without opening her eyes.

"Just making sure you're awake. What'd you think about what Father said?"

"It's frustrating that Mr. Parkinson didn't know more, but I guess it did open a couple of avenues for us to explore."

Draco made a sound of agreement before plopping back into the chair his father had so recently vacated.

"If you don't have any objections, I was thinking I could take that feather to Luna tomorrow," Hermione said.

"Looney? Why would you take it to her?"

"Well, she was already really into magical creatures and I know that she ended up also getting a Muggle degree in zoology, so she's bound to at least be able to point us in the right direction. Honestly, I have no idea where to start trying to track that feather down. I mean, obviously it's an owl feather, but she might be able to identify it off the bat. Or maybe she can give me a book to look at, or something."

"Relax, Granger. I think that's a great idea, actually. While you do that, I'll go visit Theo."

"Theo Nott? What's his deal?"

"Well… he's an Unspeakable, or so I've heard. I haven't kept in great touch with him, but we used to get on. I'm hoping he can help me with a disguise."

Hermione just stared at him blankly.

"Well, I can't just let Mr. Parkinson go to this café by himself on Tuesday. I'm planning on also being in the café, so I can see firsthand what happens."

She jumped up. "Draco! That's a fantastic idea!"

"Yeah, well, I do have them sometimes," he muttered, though she didn't hear him.

As quickly as she has jumped up, she slumped in her seat again. Merlin, but she was tired! And she felt the beginnings of a headache coming on; she looked sleepily over at Draco and asked to use his floo. "I think I'm too tired to apparate tonight."

He rose quickly and led her out of his living room. Hermione was too tired to really take his apartment in, but she did notice a rather grand dining room before being led into a smaller room that held nothing besides a bare stretch of floor leading up to an ornate fireplace. "It's my Floo Room," he explained.

They both stepped inside the room and she grabbed a handful of Floo powder. Before using it, she turned to him and said, "I'm planning on seeing Luna first thing in the morning. Want to meet for lunch and compare notes?"

"Yeah, that sounds perfect. I'll meet you in our office?"

She nodded before yawning hugely. Draco snickered at her before yawning himself. She smirked at him before turning and throwing the powder into the fire.

**A/N: I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Let me know your thoughts; reviews are always wonderful to receive.**

**Just a head's up: in a couple of chapters I'm planning a time jump, so prepare yourselves for that. I had never intended for this piece to be this long, or detailed. **


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